Hesitation Dance
by phyca
Summary: Palex. An unpleasant reminder from the past rears his ugly head... Thanks to zygomorph for helping with the title!


**I know you'd rather learn who Roz is, but while I continue to wrestle with the second chapter, I offer this one-shot for you instead.**

Saturday night at UT. What were they celebrating again? Who knew? Who cared? The place was full of loud music and free alcohol, not to mention fresh college meat, gyrating to the beat, skin all exposed and flushed. But there were two people there who didn't much care about anyone or anything else around.

They had this dancing thing down pat, perfecting it ever since their first date weeks earlier. Moving in rhythm, hips pressed together, hands gripping shoulders or the small of a back, fingers in belt loops, eyes staring intensely into one another.

They were being watched though. Some were amused at the lesbian couple who seemed completely unaware of anything around them, some whispered that the hockey fag and the blonde dyke were brother and sister, some were just impressed with how hot their dancing was. But one person stood in the back, angrily nursing a beer, fury rising up inside, but unsure of why.

The music changed to something lighter and the girls decided to take a breather, grabbing some liquid refreshment as they made their way through the thick throng of people to the opposite wall, looking for seats but finding all taken.

"Crazy party, eh?" asked the dark haired girl.

"Always is around here." The blonde pressed her drink against her red cheeks and smiled at her girlfriend.

Alex put her arm around Paige's waist, pulling her closer, despite how warm it was in there. She scanned the crowd as she sipped her beer. It amazed her how many people still stared – and how quickly they could be stared down. She kinda liked this game; it made her feel like she was winning some kind of battle for their own personal gay rights. _Get over it_, she thought in her head each time her eyes met someone else's. She met one pair of eyes, but they were far away, and it was hard to see them, and much harder to make them go away. _Get over it_, she repeated in her head. _Get over it, get over it, get over it._ His head never seemed to turn away.

She swallowed the last foamy drops of her beer and turned to Paige. "You gonna finish that any time soon?"

"It's icky. I don't know how you can stand this stuff."

"Years of practice. C'mon, this song rocks."

They headed back to the dance floor, Alex leading them closer to the staring man. She tried to catch glimpses of him whenever she felt Paige wouldn't notice. He seemed to be staring more at Paige than her. Was he checking her out? His scowl didn't seem to suggest that. It made Alex kind of sick, the way he stared at her. That was how Chad looked at her or her mother sometimes when he was really pissed. Alex mentally shivered and pulled Paige close, wrapping her arms around her protectively.

Even though the music didn't suggest such intimacy, Paige gladly fell into Alex's arms, resting her head on her shoulder. And with Paige's eyes no longer watching her, Alex had more time to trade glares with this strange rival of hers. Paige, of course, was not completely dense, and was well aware that something was chewing up her dancing partner.

She brushed her fingers along the bare skin of her arm and kissed her shoulder, but still she did not soften. She raised her head to kiss her on the lips, but found her eyes full of hatred, staring at something behind her. She didn't ask what was wrong; just turned around to see for herself.

It was a shock, of course. It always was. Her stomach would jump and for a moment she would think she was going to vomit. She hoped that her shock hadn't had time to show and tried instead to look unphased – and unconcerned. She turned back to Alex, taking that kiss now, forcing her attention back to where it needed to be. She didn't want to make a big deal of it; she just wanted to dance and continue to enjoy the evening.

"You know him, don't you?" asked Alex, looking back at him.

"He's not important. So not important. Just ignore him. You've already given him more attention than he deserves."

Alex scrutinized Paige, who was buckling under her intense gaze. "That's not who I think it is, is it?"

"Alex, drop it. Really." Paige didn't like feeling Alex's muscles tense up like that, or see that wild look flashing in her eyes. "Let's just dance and pretend he's not here."

Alex didn't say anything, but grabbed Paige possessively, making a show out of the fact that Paige was with her. She continued to shoot arrows at him with her eyes.

"If you can't deal with this, then we should leave," said Paige, trying to pull out of Alex's grasp.

"No. I'm cool."

"You're not cool. You're just going to egg him on and that will only cause trouble."

"I can handle trouble."

"I don't want trouble."

"Fine."

"Could you possibly wipe that scowl off your face and concentrate on me again?" asked Paige, trying her best to be seductive, flashing Alex a come hither look. She turned her around, putting Alex's back to Dean, and without looking up at him once, managed to dance Alex further back into the crowd, away from him.

After a few songs and another beer, Alex had calmed down. They were again oblivious to their surroundings. And into this oblivion, Dean made his entrance, bringing his girlfriend right up alongside them as they danced.

"Hey, Spirit. Wanna dance?"

"I don't dance with rapists," Paige said.

"Come on, don't be like that. What do you say we bury the hatchet?"

Paige shot him a look of pure hatred and turned to leave, but the crowd was too thick for an immediate departure

"Did I turn you to girls?" he asked, not wanting her to escape so easily.

"Don't flatter yourself," responded Paige.

"Why don't you fuck off, Dean?"

"Ooh, your girlfriend's got quite a mouth on her."

"And I got a nice right hook too."

"That's pretty hot, Butchie. Maybe I tapped the wrong ass," he whispered to them.

Alex was immediately in his face. She half snarled at him and opened her mouth as if to offer up a retort.

But her retort came a bit lower – in the form of a swift, hard knee in his groin. Dean doubled over, almost hitting the floor, cursing up a storm at both the girls. Dean's girlfriend hovered over him, throwing furious looks at them, while begging him to leave.

Dylan, seeing the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, trying to get there in time to stop the inevitable altercation. Dean rose up again, taking Alex by the shirt.

"You little cunt. You filthy little dyke," he spat at her. She showed no fear.

"Hey, let her go," said Dylan, grabbing Dean by the wrist as hard as he could. Dean released her and threw off Dylan's hand.

"With pleasure. She's not worth my time anyway."

"I think you should leave before we call campus police." Dylan crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking intimidating. Dean was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, his eyes darting angrily from girl to girl.

"Filthy cunts," spat Dean. "No wonder you created such an uproar after sleeping with me… fucking dyke all along."

Dylan had had enough and took Dean roughly by the arm, shoving him in the direction of the exit. "Get the fuck out of here _now_." Dean turned in a rage, grabbing his girlfriend's hand as he stormed out of the room.

With Dean finally gone, the party slowly started up again as everyone went about trying to ignore what had just happened. Dylan and Alex turned to Paige, still rooted to the same spot she'd been in when Dean had grabbed Alex.

"Um…I'm ok, really," promised Paige, trying her best to look normal, though her girlfriend and most especially her brother, were able to see right through the façade.

"Paigey," said Dylan softly, using her family nickname, "let's go take a walk, the three of us." He put his arm around her shoulders and tried to pull her along, but she shrugged him off.

"I said I'm fine; I mean it."

"You're shaking," Alex pointed out.

"I told you I didn't want trouble," she said in an accusatory tone.

"You know damn well I didn't start it."

Paige conceded the point by glaring at the ceiling and huffing.

"I'll call you a cab," offered Dylan.

"I'm not leaving. I'm fine. Go back to your friends. And quit worrying."

Dylan didn't believe a word she said, but he did believe he'd royally piss her off if he kept on her case. "I'm just watching out for you. Don't leave without saying goodbye, ok?" He placed his hand on the side of her head and smiled at her. He turned to Alex, begging her with his eyes to take care of his sister. Alex gave a quick nod of acknowledgement.

"You may be fine, but I'm not. Do you mind if we go somewhere quiet for a while?"

"Alex, I'm not an imbecile. I know what you're trying to do. I came here to dance and have a good time, and I'm not going to let him ruin it."

"Whatever. I just about had my ass kicked by some good for nothing cocksucker, so I'm going to find a quiet corner somewhere, by myself I guess, and you can go dance. Try not to leave without me." She was already at the door to the stairwell by the time Paige caught up with her.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bitch to you."

"It's ok. Really. I understand. Things like that haunt you forever. It's just part of who you are." Alex sat down on the stairs dejectedly.

Paige furrowed her brow. "You can't define me by what he did to me."

Alex scoffed.

"I've had years to come to terms with what happened. So many hours spent on Ms. Sauve's couch of counseling. And I've learned to deal with it."

"Ha! Don't tell me you're over it," Alex said, her voice edging on a yell. "I know you're not."

"What are you talking about?"

"If I touch you when you're not ready, if I move too fast, if I try to have _my_ way with you, _you_ freak out."

"Why in the world are we discussing this all of a sudden?" asked Paige, clearly frustrated.

"Why? Because I hate him. I hate him for what he took from you. And for what he left behind for me."

"What the hell, Alex? Now this is suddenly all about you?"

"Do you know how hard it is to make love to you?"

Paige looked as though she'd been slapped. "If you don't like having sex with me, then maybe we should stop," she said, with ice in her voice.

"See? That's part of your problem."

"Now I have a problem?"

Alex's face broke into sadness. "I said 'making love,' you said 'having sex.' That's what he took away from me."

"It's all the same – having sex, making love, fucking. Why are we arguing semantics?"

Alex looked at Paige with confusion, and Paige, upon seeing that befuddled look, automatically rephrased it. "Word choices, hon."

The small offering of help calmed them momentarily and Paige took a seat beside her. For several minutes they didn't speak. It was not the worst argument they'd ever had – they hadn't, after all, taken off in opposite directions this time – but the sting was still there.

Alex's head was filled with worries and regrets. It finally overtook her and she reached out, grasping Paige's hand, interlocking their fingers together. Paige reluctantly accepted her hand.

Alex looked at her girlfriend, feeling all the emotions well up in her chest and come spilling out of her mouth, bypassing her brain completely. "I love you," she said with great severity, her voice strained. Those three words had never been exchanged between them.

"Oh, Alex," said Paige sadly, her eyes suddenly tear-rimmed and darting rapidly between Alex's. "Let's not do this now." She pulled her hand away and stood up. "It's late. We should go home."

"Go home? So we can what? Make love with all the lights on? Oh, I'm sorry, _have sex_? Or maybe because you saw him tonight, you won't be in the mood. Or when I touch you, you'll cry. Or maybe you'll go sleep on the couch, just like the good old days."

"You're being melodramatic."

"No, Paige. I'm in love. In love with a girl who doesn't feel the same for me.

"Alex."

"Leave me alone," she said, rising to her feet. "I'm sorry I keep mentioning the l-word. I'm such an idiot. Just forget it by Monday, ok?"

Paige reached out and grabbed Alex's arm as she tried to flee down the stairs.

"Don't. I can't look at you right now," Alex said as she slipped away, out of sight. Two floors below, the exit door slammed and Paige shuddered.

"But I think I love you too," she said to no one but herself.

**This fic needs a title. As much as I enjoy it, I can't really keep calling it _Mean Dean the Rape Machine _nods to BtC If someone can think of something, feel free to let me know… I tend to stick with titles from relevant songs (I'd do 80s songs like Degrassi, if I knew any.)**


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